Resurrection
by doxeybrunstone
Summary: After a spell to raise the dead is discovered, a death eater in hiding uses it to raise his slain wife, who seeks revenge on the one who killed her. What happens when the only way to defeat her is for the Golden Trio to raise another? (Feat. Willow, Giles, the Golden Trio, etc.)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from either fandoms.**

Chapter 1: The Start of Something Evil

The ginger witch stuck her pale finger in a terracotta jar and when it emerged, pressed it against her forehead and cheeks, leaving marks.

_A blood sacrifice,_ the dark wizard mused, watching from a shadow in the cemetery. There were three less confident 20-year-olds holding candles; a young man, and two young women.

The wizard had traveled all the way from England to Southern California upon hearing of a growing evil. He had been hiding since the War ended two years ago. His wife was killed by a disgusting blood-traitor. If she had let him fight at the battle, she would have been spared.

He watched the rest of the witch's group stare at her with apprehension. "Before time and after, before knowing and nothing." The witch emptied the terracotta of the remaining blood at the end of the grave they surrounded. "Accept our offering. Know our prayer." No sooner had the words left her mouth, did her arms fling out at her sides as though posessed. The dark wizard narrowed his eyes and he saw deeps cuts appear on the witch's forearms.

"Willow!" The young man on her right moved to help her.

"No!" The blonde across from him exclaimed, her eyes never leaving the ginger witch. "She told me she'd be tested. This-this is what's supposed to happen."

The wizard studied carefully, sure to memorize every last detail of the incantation. The sacrifice was upon completion when a low humming began. Moments later, the growls of motorcycles flooded the cemetery followed by the cries of some otherworldly beings.

He growled at the interruption, observing several demons circle the group. The three friends of the witch broke rank and huddled together near the trees that concealed him.

"We have to get to the magic shop. Now." The man stated with a shaky voice.

The wizard fled the cemetery as the ginger cried out. "Must be related to a Weasley." He muttered a locator spell to lead to the American's magic shop. Surely they had a book with the incantation.

A tiny ball of light emerged from his wand to lead the way. As he trudged on, more and more stores looked to have been ransacked, a few of them still in flames. The distant sound of sirens echoed throughout the streets.

He rounded a street corner to find at the end of the street tucked away was exactly what he was looking for. Strangely, it was one of the few stores untouched. A sign hung low with the words, _The Magic Box_. He almost let out a groan, fearing this would be a muggle magic shop filled with silly card tricks and herbs for _love potions._

"Alohomora." He flicked his wand boredly and the door swung open. He peered in head first before tap dancing across the threshold. "Stupid muggles." He muttered, looking through the shelves of ingredients. He raised an eyebrow reading the tags, "Wolfsbane – 2 for $10″ and "Aconite Fluid – "$40 per bottle". He strolled past the rest when his eyes landed on the pile of books behind the counter.

The Black Chronicles lay open with a sticky note across the open page. Excitement swelled within him as the clear instructions were written on this single sticky note, with checkmarks next to the steps they had already accomplished.

A door slammed in the back of the shop and voices traveled into the room. He snatched the paper and pocketed it before ducking out of the store.

"I'll see you soon, my love."

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A/N: I know this is short, but the next chapters will be longer. Bear with me. Hope you enjoy! Hermione will be coming soon!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Chapter 2: Of Dreams and Of Visitors

Ginny woke with a jolt. She had just had the strangest dream, and yet she wasn't sure it was merely a dream. The small town wrought with a mix of muggles and magical entities felt far too real to be a dream. But even she knew there were no such place. Whoever heard of a place where muggles and magical being lived in harmony – or rather, coexisted.

Ginny peeled her sweat-filled shirt off of her back and made for the bathroom. Her apartment was quaint and comfortable, decorated with a blend of Quidditch posters and pastel furniture. Hermione and she had decided to get their own apartment after Ginny graduated from her final year at Hogwarts. She worked part-time at the joke shop while working towards her Quidditch career and Hermione worked at the Ministry alongside the Wizengamot and Auror Department, still searching for escapee Death Eaters.

The fiery-haired witch turned on the tap to the shower and waited for the room to steam before stepping in, her mind consumed with the dream she had woken from. The dark man looked so familiar, but she couldn't for the life of her place where she had seen him before.

Something was tugging at the back of Ginny's mind as she washed the soap from her body. She had to tell someone about the dream. Harry would take her seriously, but also urge her not to do anything rash. After all, it was Harry who had the dream about the prophecy in his fifth year at Hogwarts, the night that his godfather was killed. Ron would look at her funny and stuff his face before saying something that no one could understand because he could only say anything useful when his mouth was full.

That left Hermione. It was convenient that they lived together, and so close to their respective jobs. Hermione would give her an objective view on things and useful advice. The only problem was managing to snag even five minutes of Hermione's time.

There was a knock at the bathroom door just as Ginny was toweling herself off. She donned her bathrobe and opened the door to see the sleepy girl with hair sticking in all directions and a lazy fist in the air about to knock again.

"Good morning, beautiful." Ginny smirked.

"Don't joke this early, Gin." Hermione groaned. She slipped past Ginny and started brushing her teeth.

"Ok, joke's aside. I have to tell you something." The bushy-haired witch turned to look at her fiery-headed friend with slightly more awake eyes. Ginny got halfway through telling Hermione about her dream when a voice called from the living room.

"Oi, Granger?! Hermione? Hellooo?" Hermione wiped her mouth and scampered into the sitting room where the fireplace was filled with Kingsley Shacklebolt's head.

"Yes, sir! I'm here!" She fell to her knees in front of Shacklebolt's head.

"Sir is for the office, Hermione. We fought together, for Merlin's sake." Even if the wizard had been whispering, his deep voice would boom with authority.

"Sorry, Kingsley. You called?"

"Yes, I'm afraid I'm being called away. A vampiress is eating her way through Brazil, breaking all sorts of Magical Decrees. I need you to oversee Weasley." Hermione scrunched her nose up.

"Ron's not even in the same department-"

"The other Weasley."

"Mr. Weasley's not in-"

"Percy, my dear. Percy." Before Hermione could question him, Kingsley continued, "If I leave him in charge, who knows what ridiculous changes he'll make." Ginny chuckled, pouring herself a cup of strong coffee while shamelessly eavesdropping. A few months ago, Kingsley had left Percy in charge to tend to some business internationally. Percy wasted no time in setting pointless decrees throughout the Ministry.

Each department will be required to wear a certain color, so as to not confuse the acting Minister.

Silver Stars are rewarded for those Ministry employees who exceed standard expectations

Any lewd behaviour will be punishable by suspension of work without pay – that includes charming personal quills to write words without the sole intention of the writer

The list went on and it was positively laughable. She didn't get all of the details, but Hermione had mentioned something about Percy and the feng shui of Kingsley's office furniture. Percy was given a mandatory vacation just so Kingsley wouldn't "lose his cool".

"Ginny, I'm so sorry." Hermione grabbed a few biscuits from a jar before rushing back to her room, yelling from her room so Ginny could hear her. "I have to get to the Ministry before Percy arrives." Ginny sipped her coffee slowly. Hermione rushed back into the kitchen, her hair smoothed down and eyes de-bagged. "Maybe you can stop by on my lunch?" She smiled sheepishly, opening the door. "Sorry."

* * *

In Wiltshire, the men of the Malfoy family sat around a new, clean-of-blood-and-snake-scales table. Narcissa sold the old one to a Museum after the War, refusing to sit around such a tainted piece of furniture. No amount of cleaning could change what dirty and foul acts had happened on and around the table. Just as well, the curator was thoroughly pleased at having a piece that would later be considered an historical artifact. "The very table where the Dark Lord made plans to essentially take over the magical world. Fascinating!"

There was a crash from behind the swinging door. The father and son exchanged an uneasy glance before a woman backed out of the kitchen carrying a tray with a silver dome top. Her hair was disheveled, so much so that she resembled an old kneazle.

She lifted the lid to reveal a heap of either burnt or mostly burnt toast. Narcissa's eyes were round and her smile filled with confidence. She looked at her men expectantly. Lucius gave his wife a hesitant smile and picked the least burnt piece off of the pile, only to realize it was actually a mound of grilled cheese – light on the cheese, heavy on the charred bread. He gulped before taking a small, but still too generous bite of the sandwich.

"Mm…" He nodded enthusiastically, but Draco could see right through his father. "Draco-" he began before coughing. "Tell your mother what a great cook she is."

"You're a great cook, mum." He obliged without daring to touch the food, if anyone could call it that. Lucius kicked his son sharply in the shin. Draco yelped, grabbing for a burnt grilled cheese and his shin. He grimaced at the offensive sandwich.

Narcissa took one for herself and bit into it slowly, pieces of charred toast sticking to the side of her mouth. She seemed to be deep in thought before swallowing. "I think I'm improving." The men were quick to agree with her, nodding and taking bigger bites out of the sandwiches.

Lunch was long and quiet. The Malfoys didn't have much to say anymore. The only reason none of them were in Azkaban had more to do with Draco and Narcissa lying about Harry Potter than it did about their involvement, or lack thereof, in the War. During the trial, Potter spoke as a key witness, believing them to be prisoners of war. Lucius understood that by his own standards, he was in Potter's debt. He still wasn't sure how he would repay the impertinent boy.

Their stomachs grumbled in unison and Narcissa glanced at them with a heavy heart. "I know it isn't much… Perhaps if my mother-"

"No." Lucius cut her off. The last thing he needed was his holier-than-thou Mother-in-law strutting into his home with a clicking tongue, forcing him to ask for a house-elf. It was bad enough that Granger had influenced a movement of "civil liberties" amongst the house-elves; most of them demanded a salary which he simply could not afford at this time.

"No, I think you're doing just fine, my dear." He covered her hand with his own. She melted in her smile, thankful that her family was no longer under the influence and stress of the Dark Lord. Before another word could be spoken, a loud bang echoed throughout the dining room. They exchanged quizzical glances.

_Bang!_ There it was again. Narcissa made a move to stand up, but Lucius grabbed her arm. He strode into the hall and down the stairs, into the foyer. He paused several feet from the double doors, waiting for another loud bang.

"Hello, Lucius." A voice drawled from behind him. Lucius whipped his head around and grasped for his wand when out of the shadows came a familiar face. Thick black hair down to his shoulders and sinister eyes with a glint of psychosis. Yes, who could mistake his brother-in-law for anyone else.

"Rodolphus." Lucius gulped.

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**A/N: Sooooo, whatcha think? My brain keeps a-rolling. I won't always be posting every day. Sometimes it'll be more like once a week. Just depends. Hope you enjoyed!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Chapter 3: Fury Doesn't Cover It

"I bet I know what you're thinking." Rodolphus tapped his feet to the side before leaning against the banister. The man was so flamboyant, Lucius wondered how he managed to escape the Ministry's clutches.

"I sincerely doubt it." Lucius muttered under his breath. What he was thinking was: How the bloody hell did he get past the wards without setting off the warning alarms?

"You're thinking 'What's ol' Roddy doing still in town?'" Lucius stared at the man. He could go from terrifying to a demented bunny in 0.3 seconds, which made him even more frightening. Rodolphus was like a violent Rumpelstiltskin. "You're saying to yourself, 'why isn't this bloke on the bleedin' run?'"

"Surely the Ministry-"

"-is dealing with a helluva lot worse than myself at the moment." His eyes grew dark as a sneer spread across his face. Rodolphus opened the side of his cloak and a piece of folded parchment floated like a feather into Lucius's hands. The startled wizard unfolded the parchment to find it was a clipping from the Daily Prophet.

_Success Across America,_ the title read. Lucius's eyes zoomed across the article, looking for something that might put his life and his family's in jeopardy. But there was nothing. North and South America were doing better in terms of demon containment, the vampire population was slowing. The only thing that made his nose wrinkle was the fact that muggles seemed to be fully aware and accepting of magical beings.

"Don't you see?" Rodolphus tip-toed his way just a few inches from Lucius's nose. "Though the Prophet is reporting the good stuff, the Ministry suspects something is amiss." His sneer grew, revealing sharp, razorlike teeth.

* * *

Giles sat at the end of a long table, brows furrowed. He brought his pointer finger to his lips deep in thought. He had been enjoying himself in his flat, listening to an old album from the Kinks, when the Watcher's Council called him, begging with urgency for his assistance. Assuming dark forces were inherently at work, he obliged.

It had been a mere week since he left his beloved Scoobies behind in Sunnydale and returned to his home. He would be remiss to deny the fact that he felt their abscence in his life like a cancerous tumor, growing each day. When he answered the call from the Council, his heart had leapt excitedly.

And now in the uncomfortable mahogany chair, his mind was fixed on the matter at hand. The very balance of the living and dead planes were hanging by a thread, but the other Watchers wouldn't elaborate on why.

"Mr. Giles, the truth of the matter is... well, we don't know why this is happening." A short, balding man in a three piece suit spoke. "That is why we brought you here. We're waiting on-" But before he could continue, the doors to the dimly lit conference room swung open with a bang. A gangly man in peculiar robes strode in as though he looked perfectly normal. His chin was raised with an obvious sense of authority.

"Hello, men of the Watcher's Council. I am Percy Weasley of the Ministry of Magic. I'm here on behalf of the Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, who unfortunately could not be here himself. This is my scribe, Miss Hermione Granger. She'll be taking notes for me this evening."

Giles glanced between the lanky man and the woman next to him. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips frowned downward by just a fraction as though she were trying to hide her frustration. The difference between the two was that the younger woman was wearing normal clothes. Take away the bushy hair and she resembled Dawn in body type and fashion choice.

The pair sat down across from Giles at the only empty seats. "I have just been brought up to speed by the Minister himself via owl."

"The Minister's an owl?" Giles gave the man a quizzical look, who returned the look with daggers for eyes.

"Don't be absurd. You are aware of the Ministry of Magic, are you not?" He replied condescendingly. To be honest, Giles had only read a little about the M.o.M., which he thought was brilliant in theory, but rather ridiculous as a practice. Magical laws after all are innate.

"The Ministry's job is to maintain the secrecy of the magical world from the muggles, non-magical folk... Well, among other things." Hermione explained. Percy shot her a look.

"I think you missed the mark on that one." Giles muttered, earning himself a glare from Percy. "Have you any idea how common it is for 'muggles' to witness- no, be assaulted and assimilated by demons?" Giles scoffed. Hermione held up her hand when Percy's mouth dropped open to retort.

"Are you Rupert Giles?" She asked, with a much pleasanter tone than Percy seemed capable of. He nodded. "See, magic in America isn't governed like that in most older countries. How often do you hear of a vampire attack in England?" She chuckled at her own rhetoric.

"How many hellmouths have you found in England?" Giles countered.

"We seem to be getting off-topic." The Head of the Council interjected. "Mr. Weasley, you called for this meeting, did you not?" The ginger rose to his feet and spoke, while circling the table of Watchers and Giles.

"It has been brought to our attention that a force of dark magic beyond our knowledge has... penetrated this world." He withdrew a long, thin stick from his robes and gave it a small swish. Several pieces of parchment flew across the room, a piece landing in front of each person at the table. Giles looked down, ignoring everything else that the wizard dared utter.

A moving image took up half of the parchment paper, and the rest were of words that Giles couldn't seem to read at the moment. Everything but that image seemed to blur out of existence. Buffy, his very own vampire slayer, was fighting a group of demons while the other Scoobies looked on in shock and awe.

"Impossible." Giles hissed a whisper.

"Is this not your witch? The girl who spoke the incantation." Percy pressed his finger so hard into the parchment, pointing at Willow still covered in innocent's blood, his knuckles had turned white. Giles nodded, glancing between Willow's and Buffy's faces.

Without warning, even from himself, Giles started to chuckle. His chuckle built into a whole-hearted laugh, earning him befuddled looks from everyone around the room. The wizard's face turned red and he slammed a fist into the table.

"To bring back the dead is to pierce an already thin and delicate veil in the magical world." He growled. "To shift the balance could mean the end of everything in existence. Feel free to tell me how exactly is that funny to you, Mr. Giles?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Tears collected in his eyes. Hermione shrugged when Percy shot her a look begging for information. "She's died before." He managed to say before submitting to another fit of laughter.

"We're aware of that."

"No, you don't understand, Pooky." Percy turned red. "This was the second time she died... and came back." His eyes went from Percy's to Hermione's, then to the Head. "You thought I couldn't control her. It seems that even death can't."

"Since you're so familiar with this, then you can be the one to make right what was wrong."

* * *

Giles simply couldn't believe his ears. It took a helluva lot to convince the impertinent boy-wizard not to kill Buffy. But now it was his job to drain Willow of her magic once and for all? There had to be another way. He paced back and forth in his flat, before fixing a glass of whiskey and taking a seat. He stared into the fire, watching the embers burn.

Soon the fire started to crackle furiously before- "AHH!" he shouted. Hermione's head was floating within the fire.

"Sorry to startle you, Mr. Giles!" She spoke, but her tone suggested she was in a hurry. "I think I may have another solution for you." She explained that as long as he could keep a close eye on Willow, she could convince the Minister to allow her to keep her magic. However, if she could not abide by the basic Wizarding laws, she would be drained of her magic without chance of redemption.

Giles had no choice.

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**A/N: Welps, this took awhile, and now I'm going to go to sleep. Thanks for the faves and follows :)  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing from either fandoms.**

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Chapter 4: Another Witch This Way Comes

It had been a month since Ginny woke from the strange dream and yet it was the only thing occupying her mind. The dark, menacing eyes that had fixated on the group of twenty-somethings felt like they were tattooed on the backs of her own eyelids.

Hermione was worried about her ginger friend. Ginny had just told her about the dream after her meeting with the Watcher's Council. Somehow she was going to have to inform the Minister... But how was she to tell him that there was a Death Eater with knowledge of how to raise the dead? "Heya, Kingsley. There's a grungy Death Eater on the loose who might try to bring Voldemort back? Oh how do I know? My friend had a dream."

Instead, she avoided the conversation entirely by pouring herself over books from the London Wizarding Library. She looked into several Dark Arts books revolving around death, but most talked of the veil that was currently in the Ministry, or legends about the Deathly Hallows, which no longer existed, thanks to Harry.

Hermione could find nothing about ressurection whatsoever. She even tried calling upon Rupert Giles for his expertise, but he wasn't answering. There was no way she could apparate to the States without the Ministry knowing. There were specific regulations for international magical travel, much like passports for Muggles.

On one rainy afternoon, Hermione was becoming quite exhausted with her extracurricular researching. She brought several books to the check-out counter. A witch with black hair and blue tips, and an unfortunately warted nose waved her wand across the pile and muttered a spell, emiting a piece of parchment from the tip of her wand.

"Due in two weeks." She droned in a bored voice, handing the piece of parchment to Hermione. She slipped the parchment between a couple of pages in the top book and shoved the pile into her purse. Hermione silently thanked Merlin for the extendable charm she had been using the past few years.

When she entered the apartment, she was surprised to find Ginny already there cooking something that smelled divine. Hermione followed her nose into the kitchen, dropping her purse aimlessly. The ginger witch was at the stove with a skillet filled with a slew of colorful vegetables and what looked like rice

"Ginny, what is that wonderful-"

"Hi, Hermione." A familiar voice floated into the kitchen. She whipped her head around to see more ginger hair. Hermione's jaw hung open at the sight of Ron. He was looking good for putting in 75 hours of Death Eater tracking each week over the past summer. He had his hands in his pockets and his shoulders were close to his ears. The nervous stance made Hermione's heart ache.

After the Wizarding War had ended, they spent a weekend away together before they were all asked to track Death Eaters. Hermione was pulled aside by Kingsley himself and was asked to see to the more book-centric tracking, whereas Ron and Harry went on to physical tracking whenever Hermione found a lead.

It didn't take long for the two to come to an agreement that they wouldn't start up a romance until they were both in a place were it seemed practical. Now that he stood before her, all thoughts of practicality spilled out of her mind.

"Been awhile." Ron shuffled his feet. Ginny watched the awkward exchange before the sizzling skillet jolted her back to the stovetop. Hermione sighed as her lips turned upward into a smile.

"It's wonderful to see you." Hermione breathed, stepping closer. Ron grinned and moved in to embrace her when Harry walked in.

"Hermione!" He swooped in between Ron and Hermione, throwing his arms around the bushy-haired witch. Ginny shook her head, muttering under her breath "idiot".

"I forgot to tell you the boys were coming for dinner." Ginny spoke over the sizzle.

"I'm actually glad you're all here." Hermione started, pulling away from Harry. She started setting the table and told about the Watcher's Council.

"But that's impossible." Ron said, hovering over his sister's shoulder. His eyes were fixed on the food when he continued, "Especially without the stone. There's no such magic." Hermione gritted her teeth for a moment.

"Then explain to me why a vampire slayer in California has suddenly risen from the grave." Ginny brought her delicious concoction of food to the table and spooned a helping onto each of the plates. "A powerful witch raised the slayer, and she's just getting stronger."

"I keep forgetting how widespread the magical world is." Harry said with a smirk. "Think we should scan the area for Death Eaters?" He looked at Hermione with raised eyebrows. Ron gave her a doubtful look. She shook her head.

"The wizard from Ginny's dream-" Harry's eyes met his girlfriend's when Hermione spoke, "- would be long gone by now. I've been trying to contact the Watcher who used to mentor the slayer, but it seems he's unreachable." Hermione's nostrils flared in annoyance. The group was being monitored by undercover Ministry Aurors, but that didn't help Hermione's secret agenda of finding out where the wizard was before the Ministry.

"How're we suppose to catch him then?" Ron asked, stuffing his mouth full of vegetables and rice. Ginny cringed at her brother's incessant habit.

"I'm going to have to find the witch first." Ron and Ginny exchanged uneasy glances. They knew more about the Wizarding world than Harry and Hermione, despite the latter's vast amount of reading on the subject.

"Hermione, you can't just apparate to the States." Ron said, avoiding the witch's glare. "You'd need special clearance. It takes months-"

"Maybe there's another way." She interjected before sharing an idea with them. Hermione was known for working hard and getting results, but what if she were to get sick?

* * *

Giles sat in the dark of the Summers' living room with a glass of hard liquor. "They pulled me out of heaven." He couldn't stop hearing that line sung over and over in his head with Buffy's dissonant voice.

If only he had stayed behind, he could have stopped Willow... but no matter. He had his talk with the plucky little witch about his disappointment regarding her actions. He wasted no time in putting her in her place.

"I did what I had to do. I did what nobody else could." She had said. "I'm not the bad guy." She dared to tell him she deserved a congratulations for her spell. And for what? A month later to find out she had pulled Buffy out of heaven itself. _"Maybe it's not such a good idea to piss me off." _Willow had shrugged her threat off like it was nothing.

Giles knew he needed to find a way to control her magic. Another stunt like that could cause even more damage. He took a sip from the glass. Perhaps there was a spell to counter her powers in one of his volumes.

"Mr. Giles, are you there?!" A frantic voice whispered from the fireplace. Giles looked up from his glass and for a moment he thought he must have been blitzed, until he recognized the flame-engulfed face.

"Ahh, Miss Granger, I believe?" He took another sip from his glass. How someone so young could have a job in the government, albeit magical government, was beyond him. She looked only a little older than Dawn.

"Yes, I wanted to discuss-"

"You're too late, I'm afraid." He interrupted, feeling the alcohol start to cloud his judgment. "She's beyond controlling." Hermione furrowed her brows together.

"I don't under..." Her voice trailed off while her mind processed Giles's words. He looked into the fire, seeing through the young girl. "Mr. Giles, I'm going to be arriving as soon as I can manage it. Please keep this line of communication open."

"What for? Might as well go back to England, for all that's happened." He hiccuped.

"Are-are you drunk?" Giles looked up as if in thought, before nodding his head.

"I suppose I am." He replied, sounding much too pleased with himself.

* * *

When Giles woke on the couch the next morning, he couldn't remember the rest of the conversation he had had with Hermione Granger. He wasn't even sure if such a conversation took place or if he had indeed gotten immensely drunk and imagined the entire thing. All he could remember was that, if it had happened, there was about to be another witch in the Summers house.

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**A/N: Apparently it bears mentioning: This story spans the course of more than just the 6th season of Buffy. I would love more reviews, thanks readers!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Chapter 5: Plans, so many plans

Rodolphus was twirling his wand between his fingers, watching intently as Narcissa arranged the body of his deceased wife atop their dining table. She whimpered silently, knowing she would have to dispose of yet another perfectly beautiful, though now again tainted, table.

"Do I... hear a snivelling?" He leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Narcissa. She looked up and flashed him a smile, shaking her head.

The night Rodolphus arrived, Narcissa had tried to Floo out for help. Surely that would redeem her family, which was still ostracized by the majority of the Wizarding community. But when she tried to access the Floo network, she found that they were blocked. At first she thought the network was jammed, until Rodolphus walked in on her the second time she tried.

_"What're you doin' there, Narcissy?" He sneered, leaning against the doorway. Her heart pounded, but she was always quick on her feet. That was the only way she could have survived the War._

_"Oh, Rodolphus! When did you arrive? Had I known, I would have had some tea and biscuits prepared." He didn't seem to believe her at first. "Oh, I was trying to reach my tailor. I wanted to take in a few of my robes. I'm sure you've noticed my slimmer figure." She placed a hand on her hip and posed. He looked her up and down. With a shrug, he entered the room and plopped down on the couch, crossing his feet on the glass table._

There goes another table_, thought Narcissa._

_"I've placed a funny little hex on your house. Prevents anyone from contacting you lot." He put his hands behind his head and leaned into the couch. Narcissa felt as though she may vomit. "See, I've got this plan to get my darling back. You'd like to see her again, wouldn't you?" Narcissa frowned._

_"How am I to get my robes altered?" Rodolphus glared at her before looking over her rakishly._

_"If it were up to me, you women wouldn't even get clothes. Put you in rags, I would." Narcissa's heart dropped. Never before had she needed to fear for her womanhood. She stole a glance at the exit clear across the room._

_"How about them tea and biscuits?"_

Rodolphus had been barking out orders for the past three hours on the placement of his wife's arms. He said he wanted her to look just right when she was to be reanimated. He paced back and forth, tapping his feet like Savion Glover.

"Perhaps by her breasts." Narcissa stared at him, wondering if he was serious. He waved his hand for her to follow his order. Of course, he was serious. He may have been gleefully menacing at times, but he was always serious.

Lucius entered the room as Narcissa hesitantly placed the cold hands upon dead breasts. "Uh-I have the book you requested, Rodolphus."

"Don't be so formal, Lucy." The dark wizard teased, his eyes fixed on his wife's dead body. He snapped his fingers and Lucius strode forward, handing the book to him. Without sparing a glance at "Lucy", he opened the book, skimming through the table of contents. He flipped through several pages before coming to the page he wanted. Lucius snuck a peak at the page and all remaining color in his face drained.

Rodolphus looked up only to gaze at his wife's lifeless body, chuckling. The chuckle grew to a heart laughter, which quickly turned maniacal.

"Leave me, I'm plotting!" Rodolphus flicked his wrist towards the doors which flung open. He flicked his other hand and Narcissa and Lucius's bodies were flung out of the double doors, which slammed behind them.

They retreated to their bedroom as far from the dining hall as they could, but the laughter could still be heard.

* * *

"THERE IS NO EMPLOYEE DISCOUNT!" George shouted at her sister, who had just been caught sneaking Puking Pastilles in her coat pocket at the end of her shift. She used every excuse possible for having snuck them into her pocket. They must've been accidentally glued to her hand, she was sleep-walking, someone put her under a spell.

Ginny's shoulders slumped, giving up the attempt of keeping Hermione's secret to ditch the Ministry for research.

"What are you up to, Gin?" George looked at her apprehensively. "This isn't like you, stealing."

"I wasn't stealing!" She countered. "Ok, I was stealing, but for a good reason. I just am not allowed to tell you." George narrowed his eyes. Ginny's lips were sealed.

"Ok, just tell me if it's another one of Riddle's diary types of thing."

"What?! No. I was 11 years old, George." Ginny shook her head. "Believe me, the world depends on me getting this to-"

"To who?" George pried. Ginny kicked herself. She had already revealed too much. How could she have been so careless.

"I'll work an extra shift. George, I'm asking you to trust me." Her eyes begged her older brother. He wasn't the same since the War and would never be the same. It was as though half of himself had died along with Fred. Finally, he shrugged, letting her leave.

* * *

Hermione sat at her desk shuffling papers when Kingsley walked in with Percy on his tail, speedily chittering about his need for more responsibility. She stuck a hand in her pocket and traced her finger along the wrapper of a Puking Pastille. She made a point to eat three times her usual amount for breakfast for believability.

She ducked her head under her desk and unwrapped the candy, taking a nervous bite out of it. Even though she silently thanked the twins' invention, she also wished they could create the same candy without the effects. The taste was wonderful, but the effects weren't something she wanted to experience more than this one time. But that wasn't the wizarding way, was it?

Just as Hermione lifted her head above her desk, the Minister was walking back out of his office. Her stomach jolted violently before the stomach acid began bubbling. He was walking straight to her. Good, Hermione thought. Her throat began to tighten and throb until she felt the contents of her stomach rise. Hermione immediately fell to her knees and began hurling in the bin next to her desk.

Kingsley stopped in his tracks. "Hermione!" He exclaimed as her stomach spasmed. With every spasm, she threw up a little more, barely having any time to breathe in between vomitting. "Percy, take Ms. Granger home."

Percy stood next to Kingsley before glancing at Hermione. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of being near anyone who was vomitting. "Maybe if we let her finish, she can apparate herself home." He suggested. Kingsley glared at the young man, who tutted in reply. "Fine."

Percy crept behind Hermione and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Can you walk? Oh, good gods, don't turn your head. Just grab the bin and keep your head down." Percy led Hermione out of the Ministry and down the street until they made it to her door step. When he left, Hermione was at the tail end of her vomiting episode.

"Hermione?" A voice called from the other end of the apartment. A pair of feet skittered across the hall and into the living room to find Hermione leaning heavily on the filled bin. Ginny flicked her wand, immediately dispelling the contents. "The pastilles worked?" Hermione nodded weakly. "I'll make some soup." She said before Accio-ing a glass of water to Hermione's side. "Drink this."

It took several hours for Hermione to fully recover, though the taste of vomit was set in her mouth for good. When she was finally able to walk, she told Ginny of her plans, and wrote a note for her to send to the Minister.

"Now, for the fun part." Hermione removed from the fridge two vials of thick, mudlike liquid, handing one to Ginny. The ginger witch yanked out a few strands of her hair and dropped them into the vial. The liquid bubbled until the color turned cotton candy blue and had the consistency of whipped cream. Hermione did the same. Her vial turned a chocolate brown and looked just like syrup. They exchanged vials and drank.

When their bodies had fully changed, Hermione looked at Ginny. "Why are you making that face?" Ginny turned around looking into the mirror on the wall. "You can't have my eyebrows all squished together and stop biting the inside of my lip." Ginny rolled her eyes and gave Hermione a pouty look.

"Terribly sorry!" She mocked Hermione. "I just have so much work to do. If my nose isn't in a book for more than five minutes, I go positively mad!"

"Rude." Hermione pointed a finger at her friend, who screwed her face in disgust.

"Is that what I look like all huffy?"

Before Hermione could retort, her watch started whistling. She looked down and straightened. "I have a flight to catch. Please, don't do anything you would normally do."

"Yeah, yeah, get out and save the world."


End file.
